DAILYWORD for the Spirit: 50 Stories of Faith, Prayer and Inspiration

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1

PROSPERITY

I open my heart to the goodness of God.

True prosperity is more than financial well-being or the accumulation of material things. I am most prosperous when I acknowledge God’s goodness in every area of my life and give thanks for the blessings that come my way each day.

With a prosperity consciousness, I give thanks for all the ways I experience God’s goodness. Family and friends are rich blessings in my life. Personal skills help me find right employment and advancement. Humor, wisdom and energy enrich my days. I realize true prosperity as I open my heart to the goodness of God.

But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of any works of righteousness that we had done, but according to his mercy, through the water of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit.—Titus 3:4-5.

Preview

My mother taught me that giving and receiving love blesses a person with more prosperity than any amount of money or possessions ever could. She didn’t lecture me about love; she was an example—every day of her life—of the good that love can do when expressed in small and large matters.

How much love does a heart hold or is capable of expressing? How important is it to put our love into action for the sole purpose of blessing others? I believe there is no act of love that is too insignificant to touch the lives of others in ways that benefit them in the moment and for a lifetime.

Heart of Love

By Colleen Zuck

Most Missouri winters offer a diversity of weather: warm and cold days, and dry and wet spells. In fact, those born and raised here advise new residents and visitors, If you don’t like the weather in Missouri, stick around because it will change tomorrow.

Just before Christmas in 1954 (I believe that was the year) it was bitterly cold. Snow filled the ditches and low spots in the ground of our hilltop community. The neighborhood took on a surreal look of black and white, a contrast of earth and snow. Our house, with an acre and a half of land, was at a point where the urban scene shifted into a rural one.

This was the Christmas when I learned the difference between material wealth and spiritual wealth: I experienced what it was to give from the abundance of God’s love that was within me.

A Helping Hand

My mother was the manager of our neighborhood grocery store, but more than that she was the caring heart of our community. She was a champion of recycling long before it became popular. Clothes were passed down in our extended family. I remember being relieved when my feet outgrew some of the clunky shoes my cousins and even my aunts passed along. Mother also collected toys for the children in our neighborhood, often cleaning dolls and washing and ironing the dolls’ clothes.

But back to this cold morning just before Christmas when I was about 13 years old. Mother called me into the kitchen and began to pull canisters out of the cabinets. She directed me to the refrigerator, saying, We need milk for the gravy. I questioned what we were doing since we had already eaten breakfast. Then she explained she had learned that the family down the road from us was without food. Jesus fed 5,000 with five loaves and fishes, and we ought to find enough food in this kitchen to feed a family of seven.

Mother began heaping flour into a large crockery bowl. After she had added and mixed other ingredients, she rolled the dough out on a floured board. She then pressed out big, round biscuits—enough to feed a dozen people!

Sliding the biscuit pan into the oven, she began making a huge pot of milk gravy, saying, I need your help carrying this food over to Kitty and her children.

I immediately felt embarrassed about taking biscuits and gravy to this family. What if they didn’t like this kind of food? What if they felt embarrassed—about not having enough?

Within 30 minutes, Mother and I were walking down the road to Kitty’s house. Mother was in front carrying the pot of steaming hot gravy, and I reluctantly followed behind with the pan of biscuits, covered by a clean dish towel.

When Mother knocked at the door, a young boy about 7 years old answered. I thought you might enjoy some biscuits and gravy, Mother announced with all the ease she did when passing a bowl of food at our family table.

As we entered the house, I was struck by how cold it was inside. There was no heat. Steam flowed from the pot of gravy and billowed up to the living room ceiling. Five other children appeared in the room followed by their mother.

An Abundance of Love

One girl, several years younger than me, looked at the pan of biscuits I was holding and then looked into my face as though she were looking at an angel. I was seeing myself through her eyes, and I felt so good about the person whom she was seeing. I knew that’s who I wanted to be. I felt like an angel, not because of me but because the abundance of God’s love being shared by two families filled that small home.

During the walk back home, Mother and I were quiet, but I felt warm and happy. From that day on I enjoyed helping Mother share her heart of love by giving what we had to give, knowing that no gesture of caring and no gift given in honor of God’s love were too insignificant or small.

Years later when I found Unity, I understood that Mother had a prosperity consciousness that was so much a part of the Unity teachings. Although she didn’t have much, materially, she expressed the love of God abundantly.

Because Mother now has Alzheimer’s, she doesn’t always know how to feed herself. Often when I am feeding her, she lets me know with a word or gesture that she wants me to share her food and even to eat first.

Yes, God’s love expressed by Mother is stronger than Alzheimer’s and any other adverse condition or circumstance. What prosperous people we are when we love and are willing to be loved.

Postscript

My mother was also my teacher, my friend and my greatest supporter. She grew up in what most would consider extreme poverty. Yet having less didn’t dampen her passion to give to others. With only a third-grade education, she had a wisdom that exceeded book learning. As I was growing up, Mother’s nightly ritual was to tuck me in bed and then, down on her knees beside my bed, she would pray with me. Remembering these prayer times with Mother blesses me to this day.

In 2007 at age 97, Mother experienced what the doctors called heart failure, but I knew that her heart of love never failed. I was at her bedside, praying with her, telling her how much all her family loved her and thanking her for being a wonderful mother. I told her that her family was okay and that she could go on to her rest. And as if she was waiting to hear that, she took her last breath and rested her heart of love. I know that her family and everyone who ever met her would agree that she left this world with a lot more love than there was before she came into it. This is something each of us can do; we can prosper the world with love.

2

LET GO, LET GOD

The love of God unites my loved ones and me in a circle of love.

Iknow that worrying about my loved ones and creating what if scenarios in my mind are not going to do them or me any good. So I let go of worry and know that the best results happen as we let God guide us.

I let go and let God be in charge by taking myself a step further. Instead of just knowing the truth, I live it. As I do this, I focus on creating an atmosphere of peace and contentment around me. By letting go, I am opening a door to peace and inviting the unlimited love of God to comfort me.

Even when my loved ones are out of my sight, the spirit of God is our vital connection. We are as close to one another as a prayer. Wherever my loved ones may be, the spirit of God is within them. At this very moment, divine love is surrounding and embracing them and uniting us in a circle of love.

Have faith in God. —Mark 11:22

Preview

I often wonder about the people I see while shopping at a mall or sitting in the waiting area at an airport: What’s your story? We know only sketches here and there of what’s going on in the lives of those we see at work or in class daily. More than likely, we haven’t a clue of the ups and downs of those we see during our regular shopping day at the grocery store or appointment at the hairdresser’s.

Both Gardiner Rapelye and I worked in the same Silent Unity building for several years, but in different areas of service. We had chatted on occasion while riding the elevator or passing in hallways. One day another co-worker told me a miraculous story about Gardiner’s son Tanner, and the next time I saw Gardiner, I asked him if he would share his story with the Daily Word family. He did, and each time I read Surrendering All to God, I receive a blessing. As you turn the page, I believe you will find a story that will inspire you as it did me.

Surrendering All to God

By Rev. Gardiner Rapelye Jr.

When my sons Tanner and Beau were 8 and 14, their mother and I divorced, and I started a new life as a single parent. During those early years, I had gotten used to the usual bumps and scrapes that happen to kids. However, at 11 p.m. on September 17, 2005, I received a call that turned my world upside down. Twenty-four-year-old Tanner had fallen from the fourth-floor balcony of his apartment in Kansas City, Missouri.

Rushing off to the hospital from my home 20 miles away, I made several urgent calls. I phoned Beau, in California, and his mother, in North Carolina. I called Silent Unity, and I called my prayer partner from ministerial school, Rev. Debbie Taylor.

Earlier that day, Tanner and his roommate had helped me pack boxes for a Gulf Coast relief drive at Unity Temple on the Plaza in Kansas City. The boxes were being sent to people who were made homeless by Hurricane Katrina. Tanner had said, Dad, I really want to do more of this. We had lunch and then went our separate ways. By that evening, a beautiful afternoon with my son had turned into a horrific crisis.

When I arrived at the hospital emergency unit, a doctor took me into a small consultation room. Your son may survive, he said, but if he does, he may be totally nonfunctioning. When he told me I couldn’t go in to be with Tanner, I said, I’m an ordained minister and I can handle this. I’ve got to be by his side.

My Little Boy

When Tanner was born, I was in the delivery room. As soon as the doctor delivered Tanner, she handed him to me. Tanner grabbed my thumb, and I remember thinking, This little boy is going to help me. Now I knew that as never before I needed to be there for him.

Finally, I was allowed in to see him. Tanner was in a coma, his pelvis was fractured, and a broken rib had damaged his spleen. Before they did a tracheotomy and placed Tanner on life support, I tried to straighten the oxygen tube going into his nose. Even though he was in a coma, I thought I might be able to do something that could make him feel more comfortable. One of the doctors who was watching said, This isn’t a movie. There’s not going to be any pretty music, and there may be no happy ending. Well, I affirmed, I’m in prayer knowing that we are going to see a happy ending and that he is going to be just fine.

Hitting the ground after a four-story fall, Tanner aspirated the contents of his stomach into his lungs, which caused severe burns throughout the interior of his lungs. His brain was swollen to the capacity of his skull, but it was the damage to his lungs that soon threatened to take his life.

Twice the doctor prescribed a risky steroid treatment. You have a choice here, he said. You can either watch him crash and burn or you can let us try to save his life with a steroid treatment. But know that he may not survive the treatment itself.

I thought, Okay, we are either going to be planning a funeral or for long-term care, and I’ll do whatever I’m called to do. It was so clear from that moment on that I had to surrender, get out of the way, and listen to divine guidance.

Beau flew in from California, and the boys’ mother flew in from North Carolina. Tanner had at least one of us by his side at all times. I was comforted to know the prayers of Silent Unity were going on 24 hours a day, every day. Debbie started a prayer chain for Tanner, and we received cards from people all over the world, telling us they were praying for him.

We never left Tanner unattended, and I believe that during the eight weeks he was in a coma, he somehow sensed that we were there, pulling for him. I said the Prayer for Protection for him over and over again, believing each time that he heard me:

Tanner,

The light of God surrounds you;

The love of God enfolds you;

The power of God protects you;

The presence of God watches over you.

Wherever you are, God is!

Tanner’s recovery was a very slow process. The first indication I saw that he was coming out of the coma was when a tiny bit of one side of his lip turned up, as if he were trying to smile. Then he started moving one of his little fingers. We cheered him on, hoping and praying that he was really coming back. The doctors were very cautious, saying, Don’t get too excited about any of this.

On the other hand, prayers for him continued, and his progress steadily improved. We prayed, Silent Unity prayed around the clock, and people all over the world prayed. Tanner became more active and coherent. He was able to work the call button, keeping his nurses busy.

One morning when I arrived early at the hospital, Tanner had the TV remote in his hand. Dad, look! he said. I looked up and saw that he had The Worship Network on—beautiful scenes, lovely music, scriptures and inspirational messages that continued 24 hours a day. He had been awake all night watching the program.

Tanner went from 250 to 140 pounds while he was in the hospital. He had to learn everything all over again: how to move his hands, arms and legs. He had to learn how to walk, talk, and take care of himself.

When he came out of the hospital, Tanner stayed with me for two weeks. At first I felt as nervous as if I had a newborn in the house. I would listen for any noise he would make: Was he coughing? Turning over in the bed? He’d been taken care of by nurses and doctors for so long, I wasn’t sure if I could do it. Tanner improved so rapidly that he really didn’t require much care.

Beau quit his job in California, and he and Tanner moved in together. They lived right across the street from me. We had this family-compound thing going on for a while, which was very comforting.

Finding the Good

When Tanner fell four stories to the ground, he landed on a patch of grass and dirt that was about three feet wide by five feet long. That patch of ground, surrounded by rock, brick, stone steps and metal fences, had just been watered. After his fall, an imprint of Tanner was visible on that patch of grass and dirt. If he had fallen in any other spot, more than likely, he would not have survived.

To this day, I don’t know how or why Tanner fell; Tanner doesn’t remember how the fall happened. What I do know is that Spirit has great plans for this young man. When I look at him, I thank God he survived so many surgeries and procedures. He mended beautifully. As I like to say: He’s alive, awake, alert, enthusiastic and prospering. He’s working now as a financial planner. His high-school sweetheart, Sara, came back into his life as a result of the accident, and they are engaged.

My sons and I have always been incredibly close, but now we’re even closer. I’ve learned that when I pray and look for the good in every situation, I find it. I also know that what God leads me to, God leads me through. Whether it is a crisis or an opportunity for good, I’m to get out of the way and surrender all to God.

Postscript

In 2001, after a successful career as an interior designer, Gardiner Rapelye Jr. made the decision to go into the ministry. He was ordained as a Unity minister in June of 2005, three months before his son Tanner’s accident.

Tanner and Sara, his high-school sweetheart, were married November 1, 2008, and resided in Prairie Village, Kansas. Tanner is planning on speaking to other young college-age people about his accident and the challenges that arise from drug and alcohol abuse.

Gardiner reports that when the article was published in Daily Word, he began hearing from people he had not heard from in years. He was also contacted by people he didn’t know who were helped by reading his story. All of which, he says, "speaks volumes of how Daily Word reaches out to people."

At the time of the publication of this book, Gardiner had retired from Silent Unity and moved to Maine to take care of property he and the boys had inherited from his father. He says: I am looking forward to once again living close enough to spend time with my family—especially Sunday mornings, attending church together, and at anytime, enjoying a meal together.

3

FORGIVE

Thank You, God, for Your loving, forgiving spirit within all.

Dear God, I turn to Your gentle presence today in a spirit of forgiveness. I invite You to guide and inspire me as I release any past hurts or perceived slights initiated by others or by myself.

I forgive anyone I may have held resentment toward, and I affirm and give thanks for Your healing, forgiving presence within each person. May forgiveness be complete within every heart and mind so that the relationships of both friends and family can be valued and meaningful to all.

God, I release any need for a particular outcome and remain open to the spirit of forgiveness within me and within others.

So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.

—Matthew 5:23-24

Preview

When I listened to Imacculée Ilibagiza tell her story, I heard pain and sadness in her voice. She had lost many family members during the Rwandan genocide. As her story unfolded, I could hear something else emerging in the sound of her soft, gentle voice. I believe it was a balm of forgiveness that was continuing to soothe her wounded heart.

Imacculée awakened in me a greater realization of the healing power released in acts of forgiveness. I was amazed but understood why this young woman chose to do what she did after learning of the annihilation of her family.

As you read her story, I believe you will hear a strength and faith that perhaps you have never before heard.

The Healing Power of Forgiveness

By Immaculée Ilibagiza

In the spring of 1994, I was a college student, home for Easter. As the protected daughter of loving parents and cherished sister of three wonderful brothers, I was enjoying life in my homeland of Rwanda.

Although we were of the Tutsi ethnic minority in a country run by an extremist Hutu regime, we could not have imagined the genocide that was about to begin. On April 6, the president of Rwanda, a Hutu, was killed in a plane crash, and Tutsi rebels were accused of shooting down the plane. My family, along with millions of other Tutsis, knew there would be retaliation.

We were ordered not to leave the country, and business as usual stopped. When the killing of Tutsis began, my parents sent me to hide in the home of Pastor Simeon Nzabahimana, a sympathetic Hutu. Different members of my family hid in several other places.

Pastor Simeon took in seven more Tutsi women. Our hiding place was the small second bathroom of his house. Eight of us were wedged into that 3- by 4-foot space. We would spend the next three months there. Occasionally—and only at night—we would come out of the bathroom and lie down in the adjoining room. There was a window in this room, so we didn’t dare stay there in the daytime.

To keep his two children from discovering us, the pastor told them that the small bathroom was locked and that the key to unlock it had been lost. The other women and I listened to a radio that Pastor Simeon had placed outside the bathroom door. The BBC reported daily of the growing number of Tutsis who had been brutally killed. Many entire families were wiped out.

For three months, not daring to make a noise that might cause us to be discovered, we women used hand signals to talk to one another. Once a day or sometimes once every other day, Pastor Simeon brought us food and water. We flushed the toilet only when we would hear the other toilet in the house being flushed.

Hutu killers came to the house and searched. During the search, I silently prayed and said the Rosary. I held my breath when I heard the men approach the bathroom door. I believe it was nothing less than a miracle that they turned and left, never attempting to open the door. Knowing that they would return, I begged the pastor to move a large armoire in front of the bathroom door. He did and then stacked suitcases on top of it.

Listening from the silence of the bathroom to the BBC radio reports of the genocide that was happening, I grew angrier each day. I spent hours imagining that I was a Tutsi soldier, taking revenge on the Hutu killers. My anger grew to the point that I became upset with myself. I questioned how I could pray to God for help when I was so angry. I believed that someday I would be able to walk out of that cramped bathroom and start living my life again. But I began to question myself: How